


Four for Forty

by misslucy21



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Birthday, F/M, Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Julian turns 40, M/M, Sort Of, it gets fluffier, not together though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22272364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslucy21/pseuds/misslucy21
Summary: Four ways Julian Bashir might have turned forty
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Kira Nerys, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Keiko O'Brien/Miles O'Brien
Comments: 29
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I turn 40 in a couple weeks and the character that came to mind when I thought about turning 40 was Julian, and all the ways his story could go. This isn't Beta Canon compliant; it's all my own headcanon. Enjoy!

He was flicking through records as fast as he could when it caught his eye. He frowned, but then kept going. He didn’t have much time, at least if he wanted to get out of here in one piece. Preferably without alerting anyone to his presence. 

He managed to slip out of the office complex and down to the rented room where he could transmit the information to his blind drop. That done, he slunk out of one anonymous housing block and across town to an equally anonymous apartment. They’d expect he’d stay in the rented room. He never did if he could help it. He couldn’t sleep anymore if anyone knew where he was. 

It wasn’t until he was in the apartment and had barricaded himself into the walk in closet where he’d set up his bed that he let himself relax enough to consider what he’d seen. The date on Earth. August 29th. His birthday. And if he was right, the Earth year was 2381 and he was 40 years old. 

If you had told him ten years ago when he was moaning about turning 30 that he’d be spending his nominal 40th birthday hiding in a closet on a border world between the Federation and the Romulan Empire, embroiled in a conflict between himself and a secret rogue intelligence agency whilst pretending to work for said intelligence agency, he probably would have thought it was very exciting. It wasn’t. It was hard and lonely and terrible. He hadn’t seen a remotely friendly face in over two years. Hadn’t contacted any of his friends in over a year. If he still had friends, anyway. They all might well have given up on him now, counted him for dead. They weren’t wrong. Doctor Julian Bashir was dead. As dead as Jules Bashir. He was only whatever name he was using at any given time to evade detection. 

But, he was still alive, for the moment, at least. After the past five years, he was mostly just surprised to still be alive at 40. He hugged his knees to his chest and whispered, “Cheers, love. Well done.” He nodded, then slipped sideways to curl up on his bed and close his eyes. He’d be on his way before dawn, and that gave him precious little time to sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He sighed. “You’re really annoying.”
> 
> “And so are you. Come on. We’re celebrating.” 

“You know there’s such a thing as off shift, right?”

He blinked up from his reading and found Kira standing in the doorway of his office. “What?”

“You are off shift. Done for the day.”

“I know. What did you want?”

“I want you to stop working for ten hours and eat dinner,” she said. 

“It doesn’t take ten hours to eat dinner.” 

“Yes, but then you relax some and sleep.”

He rolled his eyes. “Overrated,” he mumbled.

“Rough day?” she asked.

He shrugged. Not especially. He just wasn’t terribly interested in sleeping or eating. Or much else, really. “I’m fine.”

“Which is why you’re working 70 hours a week when there’s no need to, again,” she said dryly.

“It’s not 70.” 67 last week, but still not 70. 

“Mm-hm”, she said skeptically. “Enough for today. Come on,” she said, walking around his desk and reaching over to shut off the monitor. 

He sighed. “You’re really annoying.”

“And so are you. Come on. We’re celebrating.” 

“What? Why?” he asked as he let her tug him out of his chair. 

“You do know what today is, right?”

He thought for a moment, then groaned. “Oh. Right.” 

“Happy birthday!” she chirped. 

“Thank you,” he said, with ill grace. “We don’t need to celebrate.”

“We do, actually. For the rest of us, if not for you, because it means you’re still alive,” she said as they walked out of the infirmary. 

He stopped in his tracks. “The rest of us?” he asked warily.

Kira held her hands up and shook her head roughly. “No surprises, I promise. Just us and some dessert after you eat.”

“Okay,” he drawled. He did not like surprises. He especially did not like surprises where he was expected to act in a certain way because he never reacted the way he was expected. 

“But even so, there’s plenty of people who are glad you are alive. And that you’re forty,” she grinned, cheekily. 

“Oh, like you aren’t just months behind me,” he grumbled. 

“But that’s several months where _I_ am not forty yet,” she replied. “Or two years, by your calendar.”

“Mm,” he said. “Do I get to be obnoxious when it’s your birthday?” 

“Yes, but unlike you, I’ll actually enjoy celebrating my birthday. It’s...an act of rebellion.” 

He nodded slowly. “True.” 

She softened. “I’m sorry you’re sad today. It’s okay.” 

“Not sad,” he replied with a shrug. 

“Oh. Not anything, today?” she asked. 

He nodded. She knew all of it. The okay days and the bad ones. She was the only one he spent any actual time with anymore. The two still here, with their hard won friendship. 

“You don’t have to be happy or sad. But you do need to come and eat,” she said. “And not spend all night working. It’s not good for you and it’s not going to help.”

He sighed. “I know.” 

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s get you fed. And then get you cake.”

“I do like cake.”

“See? Birthdays aren’t so bad, if there’s cake.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve been quieter about it than thirty.”
> 
> “Doesn’t seem to matter so much anymore. I’ve got...better things to pay attention to.”

He jerked awake and on his feet as something slammed into the bedroom door. It was immediately followed by a voice whisper-yelling “Kirayoshi! Stop it!”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You know Julian was working last night, he’s asleep.”

“He’s in the bedroom.”

“He’s not, he’s in his room because he came in late. And you’re not supposed to be kicking the football in the hallway, anyway!”

Ah. The kids. The light across the floor said the sun was more than up, but it was summer, so probably still early. 

Molly and Yoshi were still arguing when he opened the door and looked at them. They were making an effort to whisper, but they’d forgotten that he could hear them anyway. 

Yoshi turned and then launched himself at Julian for a hug. “Happy birthday, Julian-san!” 

“Thank you?” he replied confusedly, bracing them against the door frame to keep from toppling. 

“Happy birthday, sorry,” Molly said, from further up the hallway.

“It’s all right,” he said, ruffling Yoshi’s hair. “But you know better than to play footie in the house. Take the ball outside if you’re going to play.”

“And you’re also not supposed to be waking people up,” Miles said, dryly, coming into the hallway. “Out, the both of you. Let Julian sleep.” 

The kids clattered out towards the kitchen and Miles stepped up to wrap Julian into a hug. “Good morning,” he said, kissing Julian’s temple. 

“Mm, good morning,” he mumbled into Miles’s shoulder. 

“Happy birthday, love.”

“Is it? Thought it was on Thursday.”

“It is Thursday. You’ve lost a day,” Miles replied. “That’s what you get for working late shifts.”

“Someone has to.” 

“That’s what the juniors are for.” 

“Never make the juniors do what you’re not willing to,” Julian said, picking his head up with a sigh.

“That’s why you’re their favorite,” Miles said. 

Julian shrugged a little bashfully. He knew he was a favorite with the junior members of his staff, but he didn’t like to admit it. Made him notice how young they were. 

“You need to go back to sleep,” Miles said. “It’s only 7.”

“Yeah, okay,” he yawned. 

“Keiko thought we’d take the kids out to the preserve when you’re properly awake. Go on a hike?”

“That sounds nice,” he agreed. 

“Okay, we’ll go after lunch. Shouldn’t be too warm today. You’re not working tonight, are you?”

“No, not tonight. Off until Sunday, then back to days.” 

“Good. We’ll wear the kids out on the mountain and then have ourselves a proper snog this evening, yeah? Been awhile.”

“Maybe, yeah,” he agreed. “Keiko too.”

“Of course,” Miles said. “Birthday boy’s choice.” 

Julian huffed a little laugh, and pressed his forehead against Miles’s. “Forty.”

“I know,” Miles replied. “You’ve been quieter about it than thirty.”

“Doesn’t seem to matter so much anymore. I’ve got...better things to pay attention to.” And being the youngest of a triad made it seem wrong to moan about it, when Miles and Keiko both had a decade on him. 

“Good,” Miles said, kissing him firmly. “Go back to sleep.”

“Going,” he agreed, pulling away. Miles closed his door gently and he laid back down in his bed, smiling to himself. Forty was already so very much better than thirty.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I somehow did not see Cardassians as fans of a surprise party,” Julian said, eyebrows raised.

“Your birthday,” Garak said as they were finishing cleaning up from dinner. 

“What about it?” Julian asked. 

“It’s a significant one, correct? You will be forty?” 

“Right, yes. Traditionally, it’s a milestone.”

“Much like thirty.” 

Julian sighed. No one was ever going to let him live down the moaning he did when turning thirty. It seemed to have happened to an entirely different person. “One could say that.”

“It is also a traditional Cardassian milestone, which is why I bring it up.”

“Oh?”

“As I have mentioned before, becoming older is venerated here.”

“You have mentioned that.”

“And as such, forty is a birthday with some ceremony.”

Julian blinked. “Ceremony?” Even after five years on Cardassia, he was never quite sure when Garak was serious about Cardiassian culture and when he was making things up for his own amusement. This one sounded like something that would amuse Garak, which probably meant it was serious. 

“Yes. You should expect your colleagues to honor you with a traditional lunch,” Garak said. “To celebrate your growing wisdom.”

“I somehow did not see Cardassians as fans of a surprise party,” Julian said, eyebrows raised. 

“It would not be a surprise, if you were Cardassian, which is why I am telling you. And I know you do not enjoy surprises.”

Julian shuddered. He had never liked surprises, but after the past decade? Absolutely not. “Okay, so there’s going to be lunch. Anything I should know about lunch?”

“There will be food,” Garak said, sounding amused. “You are meant to eat it.”

“Quite,” Julian said, dryly. 

“I did tell them that the traditional fish and  _ bemin _ pie would not be appreciated,” Garak said.

“Thank you.”  _ Bemin _ and his stomach did not get along in the least. 

“I suggested  _ mosi _ . A bit more your taste.” Julian did like the noodle dish that was somewhat like lo mein with fish that was popular in some areas of the city.

“Okay, so a fish dish, which is probably significant in some fashion. What else?”

“If you had finished  _ The Greening _ , you would know the significance.”

“I am not finishing that book, Garak. It was terrible. If you can call Shakespeare a hack, I can call Lemak one.”

“I did not give it to you as an example of great literature,” Garak pointed out. “I gave it to you for insight into modern Cardassian culture.”

“Which it was not doing in any comprehensible fashion,” Julian retorted. “Besides, which modern Cardassian culture? The one pre-contact or the most recent one that none of you want to continue?

“The most recent one, and it’s one of the things that  _ should _ continue. It was not all worth abandoning.” 

“True,” Julian allowed. He mostly didn’t have an opinion on how the Cardassians moved forward from their war experience. It wasn’t his place and he didn’t understand it well enough to begin with. So he mostly just nodded and tried not to do anything he knew for sure was offensive. “So, what else does this involve? It can’t just be lunch.”

“It is not just lunch. You’ll be expected to recount the lessons you have learned in your past four decades of life.” 

“In front of who?”

“Your colleagues and friends.”

“Are you serious? I am not giving a speech of everything I’ve learned in my life. No one wants to hear that,” he exclaimed. If he’d learned anything in the past forty years, it was people never wanted to listen to him ramble on about  _ anything, _ least of all himself.

“Of course they don’t,” Garak said. 

“Is this one of those ‘I suffered through this, so you have to as well’ things? Come to think of it, where were you when you turned forty?”

“It is a rite of passage, and one that should be observed by all Cardassian citizens,” Garak replied, ignoring the question of his own fortieth birthday. 

“Notice you say all citizens.” Julian had finally been allowed to claim citizenship this past year. He still had Federation citizenship, at least in the eyes of the Federation, but Cardassian citizenship made daily life significantly easier. 

‘’Well, yes. You, my dear, are not a Cardassian.”

Julian sighed. “Okay. And I suppose it would be completely offensive to refuse.”

“Extremely,” Garak nodded. “Oh, and you should do it in Kardasi. Without the translator.”

“Well, I suppose that would shorten things quite a lot,” Julian replied. His Kardasi was passable for everyday things and improving all the time. But a full speech in Kardasi would be stretching things quite a bit. “You have to help me practice.” 

“Of course, my dear.” Garak agreed. 

*

The next evening, Julian slammed into their house and stomped up to Garak’s chair, where he leaned over and planted his hands on the chair arms and said “You are a lying liar who  _ lies _ .”

“Am I?” Garak replied, amused.

“Yes,” Julian seethed. “Modern Cardassian culture, my arse.”

Garak laughed and tugged at Julian’s arm to try and pull him into his lap. Julian didn’t budge. “Who gave me away?”

“I asked Jaima if there was a usual length for the speech and she looked at me as though I had four heads.”

“She often does, so I am not sure that is conclusive evidence.” Jaima was the children’s director at the clinic and tended to think Julian had about as much sense as the children under her care. 

“It’s not funny,” Julian said, straightening up. 

“It’s a little funny,” Garak suggested. 

“It’s not a little bit funny. I looked like an arse,” Julian pouted. 

“Oh, my dear,” Garak said, smiling at him. “Come here.” 

Julian resisted for a moment more, but then settled onto Garak’s lap. 

“I am sorry, I didn’t think you’d go ask questions of your colleagues,” Garak said. 

“How long have you known me?” Julian asked, rolling his eyes. 

“I was counting on your desire to not appear to be ignorant to others.”

Julian snorted. “That horse left the barn about five years ago.”

“Yes, well. I am sorry, you know.”

“You should be.”

“I thought it would distract you from thinking too much about your birthday. You had a hard time with thirty and then with the Lethean attack.” 

“I suppose I could appreciate that,” Julian allowed, judiciously. There had been nightmares about Altovar cropping up over the past couple of weeks. 

“There will be no speeches,” Garak promised. “Although, your colleagues did mention they want to treat you to lunch and asked me what you’d like the most. They apparently have discovered that it’s traditional for work friends to buy lunch on someone’s birthday on Earth?” 

“Sort of,” Julian agreed. 

“I told them to not make it a surprise, so someone will probably mention it tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“And then in the evening, you and I will have cake, as we’ve always done,” Garak reassured him. “Is that better?”

“Yes,” Julian replied, leaning his head against Garak’s. “Much.” 

“Good,” Garak said. “Oh, I did also secure you some time on the subspace relay the day after your birthday so you can have a real time conversation with the O’Briens.”

“Oh! Thank you!” Julain said. “That would be great.”

“I thought you might think so,” Garak said. Real time conversations were hard to come by, even now. “Forgiven, then?”

“I suppose so.”

“Good.” 


End file.
